


Tell me why it hurts (let me fix you)

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Confessions, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I need more protective Yuuri tbh, Love, M/M, Pet Names, Sappy, Sort of a sequel to Silver, Victor gets a haircut, Victor tells Yuuri what happened to his hair, Yuuri gives a haircut, protective!Yuuri, these two will be the death of me, very sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:57:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8791471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: "Well, you always talk about how much you loved it when it was long. I always wondered why you'd cut it if you really liked it that much."
Victor didn't answer. The shifting of the scissors didn't stop, but there was a cautiousness in Yuuri's fingers now. He could always sense when something was off with Victor and now was no exception. But he didn't push it and Victor was grateful for that. Maybe it had been long enough. He closed his eyes, as Yuuri tilted his head again and started on the side of it. "It wasn't a choice," he confessed, hushed in the early morning light."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title is random, I know. But I just liked it after I wrote it down and now I can't change it XD This was a long time coming and if anyone's been waiting for this, then I'm sorry for the wait! This is a short scene of Victor finally telling Yuuri why he cut his hair. I suggest that if you haven't read my other fic Silver, you do so before this. This can be read alone, but you'll understand much better if you read Silver.
> 
> That's all from me! Comments=love so please maybe leave one?c:

Victor stood, the air still steamed from his shower, and scrutinized himself in the mirror. A tired skater gazed back at him, hair turned to dark platinum by water and parted neatly. A flop of bangs fell across one eye and as he watched, a single droplet slipped down them. He reached up to run a strand between finger and thumb. It ended sooner than he would've liked, falling back to his forehead. But it was still longer than he'd expected. As a matter of fact, it wasn't just his bangs that were getting a little long; all of his hair was getting to that scruffy stage that he didn't like. He'd have to cut it.

  
_Unless you grow it out again._

  
The thought came unbidden, as he reached for his clothes folded atop the sink's edge. He paused, letting himself consider it for the first time in a while. He really wouldn't mind growing it out. He'd loved his long hair so much, loved to wear it up, show it off when he skated. But...

  
_His knees hitting the ground, skates knocked away from him, a hand twisted deep in his hair—_

  
He shuddered, hands falling to grip the edge of the sink. It took a couple of deep breaths to chase away the memories this time. Maybe it wouldn't be such a great idea. It would only bring back the old fear all over again. Trying to force the ugly thoughts out of his mind, he started to get dressed.

  
He'd gotten as far as putting on his jeans, when the bathroom door clicked open and a familiar figure appeared. Yuuri trudged into the room, yawning and still in his pj's: boxers and a white tee. His hair was a mess of black silk and he was adjusting his glasses sleepily on his nose. Victor felt his heart flutter at how endearing Yuuri looked early in the morning. He half-wished he'd waited to get up, just so he could've seen Yuuri's face when he first woke up. Then Yuuri finally focused on Victor, realized that he was shirtless, and yelped like a little girl. "Sorry! I didn't know you were still in here!"

  
Victor couldn't help but laugh at that. "Relax, Yuuri," he chuckled. "I'm not going to throw you out of the bathroom."

  
"I just...wasn't expecting you to not have a shirt on," Yuuri stammered, a blush heating his cheeks. He struggled to keep his gaze fixed on Victor's face, but it was difficult. Not many people could handle a shirtless Victor Nikiforov, with water drops skating down his shoulders and his jeans still undone. Yuuri most certainly could not handle it.

  
Letting out a little defeated sound, he walked up behind Victor and wrapped his arms around his waist. Victor grinned as Yuuri's lips touched the back of his neck.

"You've seen me without a shirt on before," he pointed out, amused with Yuuri's shyness. Then he rolled his shoulders back into Yuuri's touch, head falling back suggestively. "You've seen me with a lot less on too..."

  
"Ugh, you're such a flirt," Yuuri groaned, dropping his head onto Victor's shoulder. The tips of his ears burned red.

  
"And you're not? Looking at me on the ice the way you look at me when you take my clothes—"

  
" _Victor_ , oh my god."

  
Victor laughed again. It was so easy to get Yuuri flustered and he loved it. "Are you blushing, _solnyshko_?" he asked.

  
Yuuri was stubbornly silent, forehead still resting on Victor's shoulder. Lips curving up in a cheeky smile, Victor abandoned the teasing in favor of finally buttoning his jeans. Then hands were suddenly sliding into his front pockets and bringing his hips back against Yuuri's. Biting down on a gasp, Victor closed his hands over Yuuri's. Heat flooded from Yuuri's touch and spread as he ran his hands up from Victor's pockets to his toned stomach. "Yuuri," Victor sighed, sinking back into him with eyelids drooping. He felt the grin against his shoulder, then Yuuri's fingers dipping under his jeans. They slid hotly along the lines of his hips and Victor bit his lip over a moan.

  
"Who's blushing now?" Yuuri asked, a sinful murmur into Victor's ear.

  
"Tease," Victor muttered weakly. Now it was Yuuri's turn to laugh, light and lovely into Victor's neck. His voice, his touch, he was more than enough to make Victor's knees weak right now. He wished fervently that he hadn't showered yet because at this moment, he would love to share one with Yuuri.

  
He'd just given on up on putting the rest of his clothes on, when Yuuri suddenly lifted his head in surprise. "Hey, Victor," he began curiously.

  
"Hmm?" Victor hummed, still sinking back into Yuuri's arms with a dreamy sigh.

  
"I think your hair's getting kinda long."

  
Blinking, Victor nodded. That sick feeling from earlier twisted somewhere in the back of his mind. "Yeah, me too," he admitted. "I noticed it earlier."

  
Gaze softening, Yuuri reached up to run his fingers through Victor's hair. "You know, if you don't feel like paying for a haircut," he suggested with a smile, "I could always cut it for you."

  
"Um." Victor couldn't help it when he stiffened. The last time someone other than a paid professional cut his hair, it had been— "I don't want you to feel like you have to..."

  
"No, I'd like to," Yuuri replied enthusiastically. "Wanna get it done now, while it's still wet?"

  
A nagging voice inside of Victor was telling him that this wasn't the best idea in the world. But Yuuri looked so damn excited to be able to do something for Victor that was so personal like this. His reflection in the mirror grinned at Victor over his shoulder, warm brown eyes twinkling. Victor's heart skipped. How could he say no to that? "All right," he conceded, a half-smile edging onto his lips. "If you're sure you know what you're doing."

  
"I always know what I'm doing," Yuuri teased in a flash of mischief, and placed a kiss on Victor's cheek. Then he flitted from the room. "We can do it out here, if you want! I just gotta get a chair and..." His voice trailed away as he disappeared further into the bedroom.

  
Victor stood still for an uncertain minute or two. His hand lifted on its own to slip into his damp hair. He was going to be okay during this, right? It had been so long ago when it had happened, it couldn't possibly hurt him now. He was older, he could handle this. He'd been through much worse.

  
_I'm going to be fine._

  
He didn't allow himself to think of it anymore. Tugging on the dark grey shirt he'd brought in with him, he finally trailed after Yuuri and into the bedroom. Their shared bedroom was decently spacious, with a large bed at the wall by the bathroom door and nightstands. At the opposite wall were their closet doors, side by side. The tall windows at the left sent rays of sunlight slanting across the room and playing in Yuuri's hair, as he appeared with a chair in his hands. "Here," he said, setting it down by the windows. "I think I have everything." On the bed, he laid out scissors, a towel, and an electric razor.

  
Victor's heart jumped once at the sight of the razor. Then he scolded himself. It wasn't like Yuuri was going to shave his head.

  
"Okay." It came out in an exhale, as he ventured to the chair and gingerly sat down.

  
"Don't look too scared," Yuuri teased, hands resting on Victor's shoulders as he kissed the top of his head. "I'm not that bad at this. I've done it before."

  
"Really? When have you done it before?"

  
"You know the triplets?" Snagging the towel, Yuuri draped it around Victor's shoulders. "Well, they were very stubborn when it came to getting haircuts, so I had to help Yuuko out."

  
"Isn't that a little different from cutting a guy's hair?" Victor asked sarcastically. He earned himself a punch on the shoulder and laughed. Then Yuuri picked up a comb and Victor wasn't laughing that much anymore. A nervous shock flitted down his spine as Yuuri used the comb to push his hair up; he clipped it into place to hold it away from the shorter undercut beneath, then grabbed the razor next. Victor swallowed. _It's okay, it's just Yuuri, it's just Yuuri..._

  
The buzz of the razor starting made him curl his fingers around the edge of the chair. This was a mistake. He was just about to get up when something stopped him: Yuuri's fingers sliding along the side of his head, angling it forward. "Just keep your head like this, okay?" he murmured, voice absent as he focused on what he was doing. And just like that, Victor felt himself calm. Yuuri's fingers were cool on his scalp, palm grazing his ear. The gentle pressure of the razor moving along Victor's hair barely fazed him. Exhaling, he closed his eyes.

  
It didn't take very long for Yuuri to work through the rest of the undercut and once he had, he smoothed his fingers over it. The sensation sent delightful tingles along Victor's nerves and he found that he leaned into Yuuri's touch more than once. "Okay, looks good!" Yuuri announced. "Now, let me just fix the rest of it."

  
Silent, but with a slight smile on his face, Victor nodded. He should've known. Those nightmares and bad memories couldn't follow him here. Not when Yuuri was with him. He watched as Yuuri picked up the comb again and the pair of scissors. Then the clips were taken from Victor's hair and it was combed back down into place again. "I'm guessing you don't want it too short," Yuuri ventured, pausing.

  
"Yeah. Just a trim, really."

  
"All right, I can do that."

  
Pulling the comb through Victor's hair, Yuuri set to work. The snip of the scissors was loud in their quiet bedroom. Victor focused on the pleasant feeling of the comb's teeth in his hair and Yuuri's fingers smoothing it out. Hair drifted to the ground in little silver ribbons, pooling around the base of the chair.

  
They continued in silence for a few more minutes. Then Yuuri spoke up, voice tinged with curiosity. "You know, I don't think you ever told me... Why'd you cut your hair in the first place, Victor?"

  
"What do you mean?" Victor asked, though he knew.

  
"Well, you always talk about how much you loved it when it was long. I always wondered why you'd cut it if you really liked it that much."

  
Victor didn't answer. The shifting of the scissors didn't stop, but there was a cautiousness in Yuuri's fingers now. He could always sense when something was off with Victor and now was no exception. But he didn't push it and Victor was grateful for that. Maybe it had been long enough. He closed his eyes, as Yuuri tilted his head again and started on the side of it. "It wasn't a choice," he confessed, hushed in the early morning light.

  
Yuuri's hands faltered momentarily. "What?"

  
"I was young," Victor told him. His finger traced along the edge of the chair, the wood cool and solid under him. "A boy started following me home from practice every day. He, uh, he wasn't exactly a fan." A chuckle skipped out of him, rueful, sad. "He made fun of me. Insulted me. Got one of his friends to join in too."

  
"How could....how could someone insult _you_?" Yuuri demanded incredulously. His fingertips carded through Victor's hair with a new gentleness. "You're—you're incredible, and talented, and—"

  
"And I was different," Victor cut in softly. He almost shook his head, then remembered that Yuuri was still cutting his hair. "Anyway, it doesn't matter why they did it. I never cared why, I just wanted it to stop. And it did." Careful to keep his eyes closed, Victor forced his voice out in small, tentative syllables. "It stopped when they cut my hair. Um, they pushed me down and did it on the sidewalk." There was a horrified silence from Yuuri and Victor hurried on, "but I was fine. I got it fixed later."

  
"They... _cut off_ your hair in the middle of the streets?" There was a tremble in Yuuri's words that Victor couldn't remember hearing before.

  
"Well, yes— _mmph_!" Victor sputtered, eyes snapping open wide, as Yuuri suddenly pressed their mouths together. It was a hard, fleeting kiss and then Yuuri was pulling back. Victor blinked, slightly breathless as he looked into smoldering brown eyes.

  
"If I had been there," Yuuri growled, fiercer than Victor had ever seen, "they never would've touched you."

  
Victor couldn't speak for a moment. Taking the quiet as answer enough, Yuuri lifted his hands back up to Victor's hair. He skimmed his fingers along the silvery bangs, then sliced the scissors through them with sharp, clean efficiency. Victor let him examine the cut to make sure everything was even. Then, abrupt, he caught Yuuri's hand in his. Yuuri went still and watched as Victor brought his knuckles to his mouth. He kissed the cool surface of the ring on Yuuri's finger. "Thank you," Victor murmured, emotion making his voice shake.

  
Yuuri nodded, a gleam in his eyes. "I—I love you," he managed suddenly, just as Victor was about to drop his hand again. The helpless tremble of his voice woke up something deep inside of Victor.

  
"I love you too, Yuuri," he mumbled against Yuuri's knuckles at his lips. Then the side of his mouth curved upward. He tilted his head, bangs falling across his eye. "So? How does it look?" he asked gently.

  
To his surprise, Yuuri slid a hand around the back of his head and pulled him into another kiss. This one was soft and slow, Yuuri's lips parting under his, the heat of his tongue, tasting like hot flames. Victor's eyelids fluttered shut as he let himself drown. Leaning into it more, Yuuri tangled his fingers deep in Victor's hair and pulled. Victor whimpered weakly and clung to Yuuri's shoulders, anything to keep him anchored. He wanted, and he wanted, and he'd never stop wanting. When at last, Yuuri broke it, their breaths were heavy between them.

Admiring the raw longing in Victor's face, Yuuri nudged a strand of hair from sea-blue eyes.

  
"I think it's perfect," he whispered, and Victor tugged him up by the collar to kiss him again.


End file.
